The Silent Saxleel
by Afazha
Summary: A story of an argonian that turned out to be the Last Dragonborn. He's the younger sibling of the Last Shadowscale Veezara, the story based on the main quest but with some argonians touch. For those argonians out there. I will add some background later on, this is just a test, enjoy


Chapter 1: Unbound

At last he has passed Bruma, and now he's dragging his tail on the snowy road towards the border of Skyrim.

Snow, of course . .

This northern province of Tamriel is always famous of its cold snow, harsh tundra, and hazardous weather. Though many would say that "The only thing colder than the snow here in Skyrim is the Nords themselves." Mylinn is, of course, believing that. The Nords, whom are the native people of Skyrim, are known of their hate toward the other races. Obviously they hate Argonians too, that's doesn't matter, I guess, I won't having much of a friend anyway. He stated so, which later he found it the opposite way.

Staring right trough the half-snow fog, he saw lights flickering at the distant, torches, and not just a few, but a lot of them. Suppose that's the border, Mylinn ran to see what's happening. It was the Empire's Imperial Soldier. But they didn't saw the argonian, not yet. They were laughing, speaking of something that made them happy, Mylinn moved closer to hear more.

"At last, we got Ulfric, that traitor and his dogs were ambushed and brought down, now they're coming down here to be executed at Helgen. Ha.. Ha.. Ha.. "

Everyone laugh loudly at it, but at that very moment the gate opened, and more torches appeared, Mylinn take a step back.

"Get yourselves ready soldier!"

"Y-yes, Captain, but what's happening, sir?" ask one of the soldiers.

"Those stormcloak dogs are coming here, hoping they can rescue their master. I want all of you to back our forces on Falkreath hold. Just close the border gate, no one would likely seems to cross tonight."

But before Mylinn could act, voices are heard farther beyond the gate.

"They're coming here!" someone shouted.

Suddenly, Mylinn heard swords sheated, war cries and feet stomping the snow. Those soldiers yelled to each other, then rushed out to battle. Unluckily, one of the Imperial Soldier stayed behind just to close the gate.

"Wait!" the rough voice of an argonian was heard through the trees.

"Someone there?" ask the surprised Imperial, looking around.

Mylinn walked closer, trying to smile and failed.

But before the soldier could see him, something unfortunate happened. A fast arrow struck the Imperial at his back as he was trying to find Mylinn in the dark. The arrow brought him down to the end of his life. Hurrily, Mylinn hid at the side of the gate, waiting for whoever the killer was to leave the area.

Silence fell, and Mylinn decided to move on as no one seems to be around, and the air was getting colder every second. Beyond the gate were a few Imperial camps and a died out fire. As Mylinn walked deeper to the province of Skyrim, he could somehow still hear the distant war cry and grunts, indicating that the fight was still raging between the Imperial soldiers and these "stormcloaks".

Mylinn stood there, too cautious to continue, waiting for something to be happened.

And indeed something happened, but not for the good of him.

While he stood there, a group of Imperial soldiers were coming from the other side of the gate, where Mylinn came. Those men soon saw a person standing alone, obviously not an Imperial in their view. And now they have found the dead body of their fellow soldier near the gate, still half-warm. As their anger grew they moved closer and closer to the argonian.

"Damn lizard, he murdered Levius!"

Mylinn turn around in surprise as he saw the new group of Imperials. But, again, before he could say anything, one of those men smashed his head with the hilt of his sword. But before the poor argonian fallen unconscious, he had a glimpse of a thick black beard of the man who hit him. Then, he fainted.

The Saxleel woke up. At first, Mylinn only felt a terrible headache on the side of his head. Trying to open his eyes, he shook his head a bit. As the pain of his headache faded, his vision slowly became clearer. He found himself sitting in a cart, bounded at the wrists and under guard of the Imperials. As the horse-drawn cart bumped on and on down the winding road, Mylinn realized that he was part of a prisoner caravan.

It was a foggy morning, the air is damp and cold. Mylinn straighten his seat and observed his fellow prisoners, the man in front of him was a nord wearing a blue leather armor, he has the usual tough face of a nord and a long blond hair. On the next of that man was another nord with black hair. And right beside Mylinn was yet another nord, both gagged and bounded.

"Hey, argonian. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?" the man in front of him asked.

"Yes, I'm merely crossing the border," replied Mylinn.

"But now they caught you, same as us, and that thief over there." the nord said, pointing the black-haired nord with his chin. The man looked at them, he's wearing a roughspun tunic and a pair of footswraps.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." said the thief. Then he looked at the argonian.

"You there. You and me. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Mylinn didn't reply, but he had almost nodded.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." said the Stormcloak grimly.

"Shut up back there!" the imperial soldier whose sitting in front of the cart yelled.

Mylinn remembered the imperial with thick black beard that hit him yesterday. Looking everywhere, he can't find the man, which was good.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" asked the thief, lowering down his voice a bit. The gagged nord didn't respond, as if he could anyway.

"Watch your tongue, thief! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" warned the blond nord. The true High King? Meant? Mylinn wondered.

The thief looked at both of them in astonishment. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You are the leader of the rebellion! B-but, if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" the thief panicked, realizing his situation.

Then, the stormcloak fighter looked at the argonian, and said "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits..."

That only made the horse thief became more terrified. "No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening."

Silence fell, and the carts of prisoner kept going. After a while, the blond nord said. "Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"

"Why do you care?" the thief just looking at his knees.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." he explained.

The thief looked up by his words, "Rorikstead, I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

Another silence, when Mylinn looked toward the fog in front of them, he could see the sight of a gate being opened, letting the first cart into Helgen. There were many Imperials soldier around. As Mylinn's cart entered the gate, someone called out. "General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting."

"Good. Let's get this over with!" replied Tullius, the imperial on a horse, he was cladded in a set of Imperial Legion's armor, like the rest of his soldier, but without the helmet on.

Hearing the word headsman, the thief looked to the sky and prayed. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." It seems your gods won't help you now, poor thief. Mylinn thought, although he's not so sure that he could survive himself.

The Stormcloak frowned his eyes, "Look at him. General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

Indeed as Mylinn peeked, there were three altmer talking to General Tullius,

'The Thalmor'.

A boy's voice can be heard in one of the houses, asking his father. "Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" but his father only replied. "You need to go inside, little cub."

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." the boy didn't understand.

"Inside the house. Now."

Haming was that boy's name, he hesitated again to obey his father's order. Only by then he caught Mylinn's eyes looked to his own from the cart. Those eyes were scary from Haming's view, with thin vertical pupils, different than any men or mer. Haming felt like the argonian was watching him, warning him for some reason.

"Yes, papa." said the boy, walking inside.

By then the caravan has arrived at the central of Helgen, and stopped right there. Mylinn saw the headsman, as well as a priestess of Arkay, the god of death.

"Why are we stopping?" asked the horse thief in panic.

The braver nord replied calmly "Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." the he stood, and began to walk down the cart.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the thief yelled, but he stood anyway. Mylinn stayed silent, but the other nord said "Face your death with some courage, thief." Following the two Nords down the cart, Mylinn saw two Legion soldiers waiting for them. The first of them was a female imperial, that looks like the captain, by her unique helmet.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" the coward nord stubbornly said.

After Ulfric Stormcloak touched the ground, the second Legion soldier began to call out the names on his list.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." then Ulfric took a step forward.

"Ralof of Riverwood." and the Stormcloak fighter took a step forward.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." that's obviously the thief, "No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" but instead of taking a step forward, he ran as fast as he can, despite his bounded hands. "Halt!" the Imperial Captain yelled.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir kept running.

"Archers!"

And one of the Legion's archers grabbed his bow and shot him down. After his death, the Imperial Captain called out, "Anyone else feel like running?"

I am, but I can't see any water nearby.

The male soldier looked at him, "Hey you, argonian. You're not on the list, who are you?"

"My name's Mylinn, a citizen from Cyrodill, I come to visit Skyrim, and found myself bounded here." while saying that, he checked again for the imperial with the black beard from yesterday.

"Myleen, eh? Are you a relative of one of the Windhelm dock workers, Argonian?" Mylinn didn't know what to say, but then the soldier asked his captain.

"What shall we do with him? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list, he goes to the block."

What!? Hist curse you, Imperial!

The soldier looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Black Marsh."


End file.
